


Of Love, Superpowers, & Domesticity

by Atsvie



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Disregard for Canon, Fluff, Inaccurate Timelines, Kid Fic, M/M, Superfamily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-26
Updated: 2012-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-06 00:59:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atsvie/pseuds/Atsvie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve trusts that Tony won't get himself killed in battle, he's proved that time and time again. But he can't help but worry when Peter, teenage superhero lacking their experience, forgets to be careful. </p>
<p>In which Peter is the adoptive son of Tony and Steve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Love, Superpowers, & Domesticity

**Author's Note:**

> I forget what canon and timelines are? So, crackfic sort of.  
> Also, mentions of Erik/Charles because I just love Tony being Charles' reluctant bff.  
> (For Gianna)

Tony is not as detached as he likes everyone to believe. He flirts precariously, for the most part with anything that constitutes as human (or _mutant_ for that matter, despite the other mutant’s very tall and scary boyfriend _—Tony seriously stop Erik is going to crush your suit_ ). Even more than his very loyal and _patient_ boyfriend (and Charles), Tony has this macabre fascination with playing coy with danger.

Granted, Steve trusts Tony more than anyone. He’s his ally, his partner, the one who has gripped him from death and perpetually covered his back on the front of battle. So it’s a little less scary, because Iron Man is capable, and proven that time and time again. It’s a mutually shared devotion that extends into the battlefield in the form of an equal kinship.

But he also knows that he isn’t the only one who can’t help but consider this to be _different_.

“Peter, you need to be more careful,” Steve chides carefully, bending down to inspect the gash on his adopted son’s forehead. His lips curve into something sour, and Peter grimaces at the touch because yes it hurts as bad as it looks, thanks Cap. 

“Really, it’s fine, Cap,” Peter sounds exasperated and slightly eager to stop being examined like a lab rat. He squirms uncomfortably against the cream couch, back straight and hands wringing in his lap, and it’s almost like he feels compelled to take an academic posture in front of the two men he respects most when he can practically feel a lecture coming on.

Peter, although skilled and very much so able to take care of himself, is still a child. One that Steve considers not only an ally, but has formed a strong paternal affection towards in such a way that worrying only comes naturally. Having a boyfriend as a superhero is one thing, your son as a superhero an entirely other.

The teenager hears Tony snort, despite not being able to see him because Steve is looming over him and making all these worried hen faces. A moment later, Peter feels something cool being pressed against the drying blood on his forehead, and exhales the pain out slowly. Steve seems to relax a bit at the relief, and Peter is allowed room to breathe as the blonde steps back with his arms crossed tight across his chest. 

He holds the soaked cloth—with whatever miracle shit Tony had on it, whatever it is, it’s _lovely_ —against his head and watches as Steve migrates towards Tony’s side. It’s subtle, and natural all at the same time, like he’s merely returning to his gravitational field. And somehow Peter had ended up in that field too.

“I’m sort of Spiderman, Dad,” Peter says bluntly, “This happens. I know how to be a superhero. At least he didn’t get my mask.” 

“And you’re a teenager? Don’t get hit next time and then we’ll talk,” Tony remarks, one hand rubbing over the tense muscles of Steve’s back. His brow is creased though, and maybe he looks a bit worried too, just enough for it to look a bit too exaggerated to be sarcastic. 

“I won’t,” Peter knows that that probably isn’t true, but cockiness runs through his veins like adrenaline, and part of him just wants to prove himself, to live up to the legends that have adopted him into their lives.

Tony grins at him, and Peter is nudged over so that the older man can take his seat on the couch, one arm flung over the back. Steve joins them on Peter’s other side a moment later, still eyeing him as if to find some fatal injury they had already missed. Calloused fingers brush back his hair, and he has to admit that the touch is comforting, and he sort of likes being coddled between the two of them.

“Next time you come home with a bruise, it better be a hickey.”

“Uhm.”

“ _Tony_.”

One hand swats the brunette from behind him on the couch, before two arms drape around his shoulders and Tony flicks the TV on because the absence of noise bothers both of them. Steve clears his throat, tilting his head to look at Peter for a moment, “We’re proud of you. Just be careful.”

Peter smiles and chokes out a laugh at the snide comment that comes from his other side. Steve resists the urge to throttle Tony because the domesticity is too endearing. It fuels a warmth in his torso like a missing flame heating up whatever hadn’t been melted away already. This is why he does what he does, he thinks to himself, to protect this, they’re makeshift little family. And the fact that his family is right along side him to help him protect that just makes it better.


End file.
